


Positive Reinforcement

by LerxstInSpace



Series: Contingency Plan-verse [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Curtis is Great At Feelings, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Let Shiro Rest 2K4ever, M/M, Past Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Past Curtis/Adam (Voltron), Sad Shiro (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Supportive Curtis (Voltron), dear god so much cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 09:09:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17546792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LerxstInSpace/pseuds/LerxstInSpace
Summary: Shiro is getting better at this. He hasn’t heard “sir, I need you to see this” in a few days now. It’s still hard to step away sometimes, he still feels guilty when he does sometimes, and sometimes it’s just plain impossible and that’s to be expected in the middle of a war. But he’s getting better at telling the difference between the times when he really needs to push through and the times he just thinks he does.But the thing about progress is, it’s not a straight line.Sometimes you slip.And sometimes you fall all the way back to square one.[In which Curtis helps Shiro learn to take better care of himself.]





	Positive Reinforcement

Their “date nights” on the _Atlas--_ when they’re able to carve a couple hours out of a night for a date at all--mostly involve cuddling in one of their cabins while they have all the serious conversations they both know they need to have. Like the one about keeping their work relationship and their personal relationship separate, as much as they can (because they both know that the closer they get, the harder it’s going to be to keep them _completely_ separate).

 

And the one about some of Shiro’s capital-I _Issues._ That’s a big one. Because Shiro knows perfectly well that so many of the mistakes he made with Adam tie into some of the oldest and ugliest of those Issues. And he is _determined_ to not make those same mistakes with Curtis.

 

He says that to Curtis, in so many words, and Curtis thinks about it for a while.

 

“You know what the big one was, right?” he finally asks. And Shiro sighs.

 

“The Kerberos mission,” he says.

 

Apparently that’s not quite the right answer--Curtis shakes his head and makes a little face. “That’s what brought it to a head, but… you know it wasn’t about the mission.”

 

And no. Curtis is right. It wasn’t about the mission itself. It never was. The night Adam left him, he even said it point-blank: _I can’t watch you kill yourself in slow motion anymore._

 

At the time, Shiro had thought it was a little melodramatic, even knowing how hard his illness and the way he’d been dealing with it (or, well, _not_ dealing with it) had been on Adam. But now… that conversation is one of the things that keeps Shiro awake sometimes, one of many, many things he wishes he could go back in time and slap himself upside the head for.

 

“It was about me not taking care of myself,” he finally sighs, and Curtis snuggles him close. Positive reinforcement. He’s good at that.

 

“We talked about that a lot,” Curtis says, “and he had a pretty good idea where it came from, but--”

 

Shiro can’t help but snicker a little. “Of course you and Adam were talking shit about me behind my back.”

 

Curtis gives him another little squeeze. “Okay, in our defense, we thought you were dead.”

 

“Hey, that’s even worse!”

 

“Would you _stop_ \--” Curtis gives him a soft, playful swat on the shoulder. The _right_ one. They both laugh. _“The point is,_ I get why you feel like you have to push yourself so hard, but... you know it’s not good for you, right?”

 

Shiro just sighs and nods against Curtis’ shoulder. “I know.”

 

Curtis plants a soft kiss on the top of Shiro’s head. “Would you let me help you work on it?”

 

He doesn’t want to make a promise he can’t keep. But at the same time... he knows Curtis can’t stand to see the people he cares about hurting, and the last thing Shiro wants is to upset him.

 

And the way he phrased that strikes some kind of chord. Curtis didn’t say “you need to work on that” or “we’re going to work on that,” he... he _asked permission to help._

 

And that much, Shiro supposes, he can agree to.

 

“Okay,” he finally says.

 

“Okay.” Curtis kisses the top of his head again. “Then let’s talk about that.”

 

* * *

 

They come out of that conversation with a new semi-secret code phrase.

 

Semi-secret because, well...

 

The rest of the bridge crew learns very quickly-- _too_ quickly, Shiro thinks, so quickly that Curtis must have let them in on this behind his back--that there’s a significant difference between “sir, you need to see this” and “sir, _I_ need you to see this.”

 

The former means Curtis has picked up something weird and possibly dangerous on the comm waves, and they need to pay attention.

 

The latter is code for--well, a number of things, and while the rest of the crew isn’t privy to what, exactly, it’s code for at any given time, they know it’s code and they don’t need to worry about it.

 

Because when Curtis says “sir, _I_ need you to see this,” Shiro comes over to his console and sees a little message in the scratch pad window to tell him exactly what it’s code for--in Japanese, kanji and all. Which shocked the hell out of him the first time. Yes, Curtis is a communications officer and Shiro knew being multilingual was an asset in that field, he just didn’t know Japanese was one of the languages Curtis was fluent in.

 

But he does know that he and Curtis are the only two people on the bridge crew who speak it. So in this way, Curtis can give those gentle nudges as needed without giving the impression that he’s calling Shiro out in front of the rest of the crew.

 

One time his message says “You’ve been at your console for six hours without so much as a pee break.”

 

Another time, it says “You skipped breakfast, go eat lunch.”

 

Another, it’s “Go to medbay and get something for that headache.”

 

It’s a brilliant little system, and it works. Well, it usually works.

 

Sometimes Shiro can feel part of him pushing back, can hear his own petulant voice in his head telling him he’s fine, he doesn’t _really_ need to eat or rest or go take something for that headache or whatever it is Curtis is gently calling him on. Sometimes he gives in to it.

 

But again, Curtis is very good at positive reinforcement, and there’s always a little reward later if Shiro takes that ten-minute break or makes it to the galley in time to sit down and eat that hot meal or doesn’t work too much unnecessary overtime. Sometimes it’s an evening in with a movie and a little extra cuddling. Sometimes all they can manage is a coffee break (well, one cup of coffee and one cup of hot milk and sugar that may have been in the same room with a coffee bean at some point) or a few quiet minutes on the observation deck. But there’s always something to look forward to later if he does what he needs to do.

 

And then just the phrase itself starts getting the point across. Curtis says it, and Shiro stops what he’s doing for a minute and does his damndest to figure out what it is he needs. If he does, he just nods and says something to the effect that he’s aware of the situation, and then he excuses himself for a few minutes to do whatever it is he needs to.

 

He’s getting better at figuring it out on his own.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes this is all kind of hard on Curtis, too.

 

As remarkably well-adjusted as he is, he’s still--to put it mildly--seen some shit. He was on duty when the Garrison lost contact with the Kerberos crew. He lived through the invasion and occupation of Earth. And, of course, _that_ started with him watching and hearing the man he and Shiro both loved die. And that’s not even getting into the horrible stuff he’s seen since _Honerva_ started wrecking shit.

 

There’s one night, the first quiet night after an ugly battle when Curtis is sleeping on Shiro’s couch because they figured it’s too early in the relationship for them to share a bed, but he’s exhausted and Shiro isn’t about to ask him to get up and go back to his own cabin. And true, it might be too soon for them to share a bed but sharing a _room_ for a night is fine, and it’s comforting in its own way. Knowing Curtis is just a few steps away from him is helping Shiro sleep, at least.

 

At least, until Curtis makes a noise that jars him out of it.

 

Shiro is a light sleeper under the best circumstances, but the choked-off scream jerks him wide awake. In the pale light his shoulder throws he can see Curtis sitting ramrod-straight upright, eyes wide in terror, one hand clamped over his mouth and the other clenched tight around a handful of blanket, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. Shiro is no stranger to nightmares, he knows what Curtis has lived through, and he’s fully prepared to coach Curtis through a panic attack if he needs to.

 

But he doesn’t need to.

 

Curtis blinks, looks around, and seems to get his bearings. His hand drops back into his lap and he lets out a long, shaky breath. And then he seems more or less okay.

 

“Hey,” Shiro says, scooting over to the couch and laying a hand on his back, just in case. “Bad dream?”

 

Curtis just nods and drops his head onto Shiro’s shoulder. “Sorry... I woke you up, didn’t I?”

 

“Don’t worry about that.” Shiro wraps an arm around him and pulls him close. “Want to talk about it?”

 

Shiro doesn’t expect him to, he knows when _he_ has a nightmare the last damn thing he wants to do is talk about it and thus have to think about it again, but he feels like he should ask.

 

Surprisingly, Curtis _does_ want to talk about it.

 

There’s not much to tell, just his brain mashing up two of the most horrible things he’d ever witnessed, but he tells Shiro anyway. He cries a little, and Shiro just holds him and pets his hair and doesn’t blame him at all because each of those events on their own was horrible enough, but both at once... ugh.

 

And when he’s done talking and crying, he seems to feel a lot better. The tension in his shoulders and back and face melts away and he sits with his head on Shiro’s shoulder and his eyes closed until he can sleep again.

 

Shiro gives him a soft little kiss, gently scoots out from under him, eases him back down and covers him back up with the spare blanket.

 

* * *

 

And then a couple of days later when Shiro has a nightmare, he thinks about the way Curtis handled his.

 

He can feel the panic rising in his chest and all he wants to do is curl up in a ball and scream into his pillow until his throat is raw, but instead he shoots Curtis a text-- _if you’re awake, can you come over? Bad dreams._

 

And just doing that takes a little of the edge off the panic. But a few minutes later there’s a knock.

 

Curtis just comes in and pulls him onto the couch and wraps both arms around him. “Want to talk about it?” he asks.

 

Shiro almost says no. He doesn’t _want_ to talk about it, but he thinks about the other night again, about how much better Curtis felt after he talked about _his_ nightmare, and...

 

“Yeah,” he finally says, and buries his face in Curtis’ shoulder while he does.

 

It’s hard. It’s _really_ fucking hard. Every instinct he has is screaming at him to shut up, to keep this to himself, to not burden Curtis with it, not make him listen to it, it’s just going to hurt him and scare him and make him worry.

 

But he does it anyway. He tells Curtis what Godawful memories his brain decided to replay while he slept, maybe not in great detail, he’s not quite ready to spill all of _that_ yet and honestly, if and when he does it probably shouldn’t be to Curtis. But he talks, and Curtis holds him tight and listens, and it actually helps.

 

And when he’s done, Curtis kisses him and then rocks him until he thinks he’s ready to try sleeping again.

 

Curtis spends the rest of the night on the couch again. They talk about maybe climbing into bed together, but in the end they figure it’s still too soon.

 

In the morning Curtis gets up at the proverbial crack of dawn as he always does, and Shiro figures he’s going to the training deck like he usually does. And maybe he does. But just before Shiro has to start getting ready for his shift, Curtis comes back with two cups of fresh coffee--well, one cup of black coffee and one cup of faintly coffee-flavored milk and sugar--and a to-go box of breakfast tacos from the galley.

 

* * *

 

Curtis mentions one day that he needs to take an hour or so out of his shift because that’s the only time the therapist can see him that week, and that kind of throws Shiro off for a second.

 

It shouldn’t surprise him but it does, a little. On some level, he figured Curtis was just that good at dealing with terrible shit--but then, isn’t that kind of what a therapist is for, to teach you healthy ways to deal with terrible shit?

 

Turns out he’s been seeing one since Adam died. It’s hard to stick to a regular appointment schedule on the _Atlas_ and the one in medbay isn’t his usual one _,_ but he still goes in when he can.

 

Curtis gently suggests it might be a good idea for Shiro to go sometime. And yeah, it probably would. No--it _definitely_ would. It’s just... when? Some days he’s barely got time to shower and shave and eat something with some kind of actual nutritional value, when the hell is he supposed to squeeze that appointment in?

 

It’s something to think about, though.

 

* * *

 

He’s starting to notice things he didn’t pay attention to before.

 

Like the way Curtis and Veronica both stand up every hour or so to stretch. Iverson does it too sometimes, though not as often. Coran doesn’t seem to need to but he does anyway, just to get his eyes off his console for a minute or two.

 

When Shiro starts doing it, he catches Curtis grinning out of the corner of his eye.

 

He’s noticing some things that are a little concerning, too.

 

Like the way Keith casually mentions that he blew off breakfast to prep for some mission or another and he’s probably going to miss lunch too.

 

Oof. Shiro can guess where he picked _that_ up.

 

So he gently marches Keith to the galley just as it’s about to close and asks Vrepit Sal very nicely to please feed them. Keith gives him a weird look but doesn’t protest.

 

Yeah... he definitely hasn’t been modeling the best behavior in this area, has he? All the more reason to work on it.

 

* * *

 

Shiro is getting better at this. He hasn’t heard “sir, I need you to see this” in a few days now. It’s still hard to step away sometimes, he still feels guilty when he does sometimes, and sometimes it’s just plain impossible and that’s to be expected in the middle of a war. But he’s getting better at telling the difference between the times when he really needs to push through and the times he just _thinks_ he does.

 

But the thing about progress is, it’s not a straight line.

 

Sometimes you slip.

 

And sometimes you fall all the way back to square one.

 

* * *

 

This is what everyone thought would happen: they chase down the villain, take her out, maybe clean up some damage, and then everyone would come home safe.

 

Despite all the experience they had, everything they’d seen, everything they knew about Honerva and the shit she was capable of, on some level there was this idea that this is how these things go and this time might be another variation on the theme but in the end, that’s about how it would go.

 

Even after she started ripping holes in spacetime, there was still this desperate hope that this was just a new wrinkle in the same old formula, and once they took Honerva out they could fix it.

 

That all went out the window when she started actually for real destroying realities. All of them. Almost all of them. But still... they would find a way to beat her, and they would find a way to fix this, and they would all come home safe.

 

And then...

 

Oh God.

 

Where does Shiro even start with what happened?

 

He never thought anyone’s death would hit him harder than Adam’s, but...

 

God, where does he even start trying to process _any of this?_

 

The answer, at least for now is: he doesn’t.

 

He still has too much to do.

 

He has to tell Coran before he does anything else. He knows it’s going to hurt, and it does.

 

There are briefings he has to deal with, and there are announcements he needs to make. The _Atlas_ is running on proverbial fumes and needs some tender loving care before they can head back to Earth.

 

He needs to check in on the Paladins.

 

Lance is... weirdly okay. He’s devastated, of course he is, but... he’s not sure how to describe what he’s feeling. He says the closest he can come to it is--he can’t see her, can’t hold her, but he can feel her presence in _everything_ and that takes a little bit of the hurt out of it.

 

Shiro can’t feel anything except numb and hollow and empty.

 

Right after this was over, when things started to settle down a little, he worried that he’d have to make an effort to turn his heart off for a while so he could deal with what needed to get done in the aftermath, but that... that turned out to be the only fucking easy part of _any_ of this.

 

And that’s a large part of why he’s sort of avoiding Curtis right now.

 

He shouldn’t be. He knows that. But even if he did have a spare few minutes to spend alone with Curtis, the thought of it is almost too much to deal with because Curtis has a knack for convincing him to open up when he wants to the least but _needs_ to the most and... he can’t. Not now.

 

Which... which probably means he really, _really_ needs to right now, more than ever. But never mind that.

 

Most of all, he doesn’t want Curtis to see him when all of this catches up to him.

 

Because it _is_ going to catch up to him. He knows that too. He knows he’s in shock and once that wears off, the full weight of what happened is going to hit him like a fucking freight train and he needs to be ready for it.

 

But for now... staying numb is all that’s keeping him going so he can do what he needs to do.

 

He’ll take a break when he’s done with this briefing, he tells himself. But something else comes up after that briefing, and he’ll take a break after that. Then there’s a distress call from one of the Galra ships, what they thought was minor damage turns out to be a lot worse and they need help. He’ll take a break after they’re underway again.

 

Once they’re underway again and things have been quiet for a few minutes, he hears what he’s been dreading all day:

 

“Sir, I need you to see this.”

 

Shiro swallows hard and white-knuckles the edge of his console and does _not_ look at Curtis. Dammit, he _knows_ Curtis is just trying to help, but... “I’m aware of it,” he says, as gently as he possibly can, “but it’s going to have to wait.” He’s only got four hours left on his shift. It can wait four hours.

 

Curtis doesn’t say anything.

 

Four hours. As soon as he turns it over to the night crew, he’ll go back to his cabin and rest.

 

No, wait. He still needs to check on Sam and Slav and the maintenance team and see how those repairs are coming. _Then_ he’ll knock off for the day.

 

No... he really should check on Coran and Romelle. And maybe go track Lance down, it might help if _he_ talks to them. Once he does that, he’ll go take a power nap.

 

No, wait, he can’t. There’s a mountain of administrative bullshit he has to tend to, _fuck,_ who knew saving everything that is, was, and ever would be in every reality from utter annihilation could generate so much goddamn fucking _paperwork!?_

 

He keeps finding excuses not to go back to his cabin, keeps finding things that keep him too busy to make the galley in time for dinner, then for midnight chow, and by the time he tells himself he’s absolutely going to grab a nap and get up in time to get breakfast, he’s got less than an hour before his shift starts.

 

* * *

 

All right, Shiro knows he probably doesn’t look great right now--he stopped by his cabin long enough to wash his face and eat two spoonfuls of peanut butter and brush his teeth and that was about all he had time for.

 

But he doesn’t realize how worn-out he really looks until the day shift crew shows up and Curtis looks at him like he’s seeing a ghost. He doesn’t say anything, though. He just sits down at his console and goes to work.

 

It’s a slow day, and somehow that’s worse. At least when the shit is hitting the fan, he has things to concentrate on to give his mind something to do other than replay what happened over and over. But when it’s quiet, everything is a reminder.

 

He asks Veronica if she’s picking up anything out of the ordinary. A few times. Which he knows he doesn’t need to. If she was, she’d tell him. But dammit, there’s got to be something going on, something to do other than just stand here literally staring out into fucking space.

 

He calls down to Engineering and asks how the repairs are going. They’re going. Nothing too complicated has come up. They’ll let him know if that changes.

 

He can’t stand still. He knows he’s pacing like a caged animal behind his console and he knows it’s driving everyone crazy and he can’t stop. He keeps catching Iverson and Veronica shooting him concerned looks over their shoulders and more than once sees them catch Curtis’ eye, but he can’t just stand around and do _nothing,_ there has to be something he can be doing right now, someone he can help, _anything--_

 

“Sir,” Curtis says, and oh goddammit Shiro knows what’s coming. “I need you to--”

 

“It can wait, Curtis,” Shiro snaps. And immediately, he regrets it.

 

 _“No, sir.”_ There’s a warning under that firm but gentle tone, an undeniable unspoken _do not test me._ “It can’t.”

 

There is a very long, very tense silence.

 

“Captain,” Iverson-- _Iverson,_ of all damn people--finally says, “Go take care of your business. I’ll hold the fort down.”

 

And then, even worse--

 

”I’ll keep an eye on communications,” Veronica says. Curtis nods his thanks to her and gets up.

 

Shiro knows he has two options here and he hates both of them. Leave the bridge under his own steam, or get escorted off it.

 

He picks the former because he just doesn’t have the willpower to fight Curtis over this.

 

* * *

 

Curtis gently herds him towards and into a lift and Shiro can’t see where he sets it to go, but it’s probably somewhere he won’t be able to use work as a distraction.

 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you,” Curtis says when the door slides shut and the lift starts moving, “but you’re a _wreck_ right now. Have you slept at all since--”

 

Shiro shuts his eyes and huffs out a breath. “I have a lot going on.”

 

“When’s the last time you ate?”

 

“I’m _fine,_ Curtis. I just need to--”

 

Curtis doesn’t slap the emergency stop panel, but he sure does mash it with authority, and the lift slows to a halt.

 

“What you need to do,” he says, “is _rest._ Do you think I don’t see how much piloting the _Atlas_ in robot form takes out of you? Not to mention--”

 

“I said I’m fine.” Shiro rubs his forehead. “I know you mean well, okay? I do, and you know I appreciate it. But right now the mission has to come first.”

 

Curtis is quiet for a minute.

 

“You’re right,” he finally says. “It does.”

 

Shiro senses a string attached to this.

 

“And as the captain of this ship, part of _your_ mission is ensuring the safety and well-being of its crew. Right?”

 

There’s definitely a string. And possibly a hook. But Shiro nods anyway.

 

“So tell me...” Curtis catches his gaze and his tone is still as gentle as always but suddenly there’s steel in his eyes and his voice that Shiro has _never_ seen or heard there, and all at once he knows with absolute certainty that the man is _not fucking around._ “How do you think you’re going to take care of every person on this ship if you don’t take care of _yourself?”_

 

Shiro feels something snap inside him when Curtis says that. Not in anger, more like--more like there’s some tiny part in a complicated piece of machinery that didn’t quite fit right, and it’s just suddenly shifted into the right alignment. And he knows Curtis sees it on his face, because that steel in his eyes softens and he reaches over to tap the panel and get the lift moving again.

 

“We’re going back to your cabin,” Curtis says softly, in answer to a question Shiro hasn’t even asked yet. “You’re going to take a hot shower and shave and put on a clean uniform. Then we’re going to the galley and you’re going to sit down and eat a hot meal and have a cup of coffee. And after you do that, if you still feel like you really need to finish out your shift, go ahead. But when you get off, you’re going to _rest.”_

 

“You’re not the boss of me,” Shiro grumbles, but there’s no real heat in it and Curtis wraps both arms around his shoulders and pulls him close. He doesn’t resist. He doesn’t have the energy to even if he wanted to and the warmth and the faint scent of cedar and sandalwood are too tempting a lure to resist. So he just shuts his eyes and rests his head on Curtis’ shoulder.

 

“No, I’m not,” Curtis says, one big warm hand rubbing slow, gentle circles between Shiro’s shoulder blades. “I’m just someone who cares about you and hates to see you doing this to yourself.”

 

* * *

 

They get back to his cabin, and Shiro shucks off his boots and leaves them by the couch. He takes his last clean uniform out of the closet, gets clean socks and underwear out of the drawer, and pads off to the bathroom.

 

He turns the water on and for a while it’s all he can do to just stand upright under it and let it run over him. He cranks up the temperature until it stings, just so he’ll _feel_ something. He washes his hair, his face, and so on down to his feet. Then he stands there watching the lather swirl down the drain until the hot water starts to peter out on him.

 

He comes out of the bathroom a little while later, dressed and clean and clean-shaven and feeling... not _better_ exactly _,_ he’s still not feeling much of anything, but at least he’s starting to maybe feel a little _human_ again. Curtis is sitting on the couch playing on his phone when he comes out; when Shiro sits down to put his boots back on, he leans over and sees Curtis tapping the screen to spritz virtual water on a virtual pot of assorted virtual succulents.

 

“That’s cute,” Shiro says, and Curtis laughs softly.

 

“It helps me relax,” he says, and just for a second Shiro is kind of taken aback by the idea of calm, collected Curtis needing _help_ to relax. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff like this, if you want I can hook you up later.” He puts his phone back in his pocket, gets up, and offers Shiro a hand up. “Speaking of hooking you up... we missed lunch but I called in a favor. C’mon.”

 

* * *

 

Shiro doesn’t know what Curtis did to make Vrepit Sal of all people owe him a favor, but he must have left a hell of an impression. Because when they get to the galley, there are two bowls of stew and some thick slices of warm crusty bread with butter on the side and two slices of some kind of fruit pie waiting for them. And a fresh pot of coffee.

 

The stew is thick and loaded with vegetables and... well, the meat looks and tastes enough like beef that Shiro doesn’t question it, and he probably wouldn’t want to know anyway. The first rule of the Garrison chow hall is “if it tastes good don’t ask what it is.” That goes triple on the _Atlas,_ where anything they can’t grow on board is sourced from whatever friendly planets they pass by _._ Whatever it is, it’s hot and filling and good.

 

They eat in silence, and then they drink their coffee. And when they’re done, Curtis reaches over and lays a hand on Shiro’s arm. It’s deserted enough in here that they don’t have to worry about any awkward questions or funny looks, but he still jumps a little.

 

“Honestly, I’d rather you just go back to your cabin and try to rest,” Curtis says, “but if you want to go finish your shift I promise I won’t nag you again today.”

 

Shiro can’t help but laugh a little at that. He still isn’t feeling like himself, but he thinks he can get through the rest of day shift without driving his whole bridge crew up the wall again. If it hadn’t been for Curtis “nagging” him... ugh, he doesn’t want to think about it. “I need to try,” he says. “I just--I can’t sit in my cabin alone right now.”

 

“Yeah.” Curtis nods and pats his arm. “I totally get that.”

 

* * *

 

It stays slow for the rest of day shift, and Shiro finds himself getting a little restless and snippy towards the end but Curtis keeps his promise. And then finally, the night crew shows up and they get through turnover and that’s it for the day.

 

On their way out, Curtis lays a hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “Put your comfy clothes on. I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

 

In a way, that’s a relief. And in a way... it’s not. Cleaning up and getting some hot food in him may have made Shiro feel a little more human, but feeling more human means the shock is wearing off, and he’s afraid the dam is going to break while Curtis is there.

 

He goes back to his cabin, sheds his uniform, considers leaving it draped over the back of the couch, remembers it’s his last clean one, and hangs it up instead. He puts on a pair of sweatpants and a slightly oversized black T-shirt to cover his shoulder and dull the glare a little--normally it sort of powers down on its own when he gets sleepy, but he’s got a feeling that’s not going to come easily tonight.

 

He opens up his laptop and looks for a movie or something to watch. There’s an extensive selection available--a whole bunch of the crew brought their media servers from home with them so they could enjoy their movies and music and stuff while they were out in space, and someone got the brilliant idea to network them all together and share them all over the _Atlas’_ internal network, and someone else (Shiro suspects Pidge had a hand in this) wrote an app for browsing and searching the network of hundreds of personal media collections for just the right thing to watch or listen to. Shiro gets the feeling this is probably technically illegal and he probably shouldn’t officially acknowledge or endorse its existence or use. But the unofficial _Atlas_ streaming service is good for morale and honestly he has more important things to worry about than some crew members sort-of-pirating a couple of movies now and then when they’re half a universe from home.

 

There’s a knock on his door a few minutes later. He opens it, and Curtis barely waits for it to close before he drops his gym bag on the floor and sweeps Shiro into his arms.

 

Adam was right--Curtis _does_ give amazing hugs. It’s tight and warm and extra snug thanks to the flannel shirt Curtis is wearing over the T-shirt he sleeps in... ah, shit. If he’s wearing that shirt he came prepared to spend the night. The dam springs another leak and Shiro is running out of fingers to plug them up with.

 

But he’s too exhausted to protest. He just holds on and buries his face in soft-worn flannel, breathing in the scent of cedar and sandalwood and Curtis.

 

“Come on,” Curtis finally whispers, gently leading Shiro to the couch. “Come on. Come sit down.” Shiro does not so much sit on the couch as fall onto it, and Curtis wraps both arms around him and pulls him close. “It’s okay if you’re not ready to talk about it,” he whispers into the top of Shiro’s head, and follows that with a soft little kiss. “But when you are, I’ll listen.”

 

He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to _think_ about it.

 

But he knows he needs to.

 

God. Shiro still doesn’t even know where to start, he can feel that hollow empty space inside him filling up with something thick and bitter, something that makes his chest ache, and he doesn’t even know how to begin to get it out of his system. “I just,” he starts, and he opens his mouth not knowing what’s going to follow that out of it, “I can’t believe--there had to be another way.” He shakes his head, and Curtis tugs him closer and pets the back of his head. “Why did she have to--Honerva fucking _broke_ everything, why couldn’t she _fix it herself,_ why couldn’t--” He feels the dam spring another leak and gulps in a breath and tries to gather his thoughts. “Lance should be a mess right now. But he’s not. He--I don’t know if it’s just--just denial or she actually changed him somehow when she gave him the marks but--he says he can feel her in everything and--” Another leak, and he’s out of fingers. “I wish I could, I can’t, I can’t feel _anything--”_

 

But that’s not true and they both know it. Because if he really couldn’t feel anything, he wouldn’t be sobbing into Curtis’ chest and clutching at two handfuls of his shirt as that dam that’s been holding his grief back finally breaks.

 

Curtis doesn’t shush him, doesn’t tell him it’ll be okay, he just holds Shiro close and rocks him and lets him do what he needs to do.

 

It takes a long time.

 

It’s all still so overwhelming and the pain is still so fresh and it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard to talk about any of it and even as long as he spends choking out bits and pieces of it in Curtis’ arms tonight, of course he’s not going to work through it all in one sitting. And when he does run out of things to say and tears to shed, it’s only because he’s just too exhausted to keep going.

 

He feels a little better. It still hurts. It still hurts like hell and he knows it’s going to hurt for a long, long time. But he feels better.

 

All this time, Curtis has let Shiro do the talking. He’s made some little noises now and then to indicate that he’s still listening, but he hasn’t said a word. But after Shiro has been quiet for a while, he finally says something.

 

“I’m so proud of you,” Curtis says, and that’s the _last_ thing Shiro expected to hear.

 

“...why?”

 

“Because it’s so hard to do what you just did. To talk about what’s hurting you when it’s still so fresh.” Curtis leans back against the arm of the couch and gently tucks Shiro’s head under his chin as he does. “And it’s hard to do what you did earlier. I know it’s tough to think about yourself when everything’s going to hell.” He breathes out a soft laugh. “Trust me. _I understand.”_

 

Shiro thinks about the things Curtis has seen and lived through and knows he really _does_ understand.

 

“It feels like you’re being selfish, right? Like it’s a show of weakness or something.” Curtis goes on in that same soft voice, and Shiro nods against his chest. “Like... how can you think about eating and sleeping and all that stuff when there’s so much going on and it’s so hard for everyone else too?” Shiro nods again. “Well... you’re not selfish, and you’re not weak. You did what you needed to do to take care of yourself. You didn’t _want_ to. But you did it anyway, and I’m proud of you.”

 

Shiro snorts out a little laugh. “You made me do it.”

 

“No I didn’t. I just reminded you.” Curtis gives him a squeeze. “You could have ignored me. I’m not the boss of you.”

 

Shiro looks up and sees Curtis giving him one of those adorable little smiles. “Adam was right about you.” Curtis reaches up to brush Shiro’s hair back from his forehead. “You’re so strong, and so brave, and you fought so hard. But you don't have to be strong or brave all the time, and you sure don’t have to for me.” He rubs Shiro’s back, slow and soothing. “All I want you to do for me right now is rest.”

 

Later--much later, _years_ later--Shiro will look back on this and realize that this was the moment it first occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, Curtis might be the one.

 

But for now, he just plops his head back down on Curtis’ chest, and Curtis hugs him tight.

 

“What’s in your bag?” Shiro finally asks, and Curtis pats him on the shoulder.

 

“Gym clothes, toothbrush and comb and stuff, and... something special.”

 

“Something... special?”

 

“Mm-hmm. If you let me up, I’ll show you.” Shiro doesn’t particularly want to let Curtis up right now, he doesn’t really want to move at all, but now he’s curious. So he sits up anyway.

 

Actually... now that he’s upright, he realizes he could probably stand to blow his nose and wash his face. He excuses himself to do that while Curtis gets up and fetches his bag.

 

“I brought these from home,” Curtis says as Shiro sits back down. “And I’ve been saving them for something like this, so...” He goes into his bag and takes out two little vacuum-sealed pouches, and Shiro can’t help but bust out laughing when he realizes what they are.

 

Freeze-dried ice cream sandwiches.

 

Because _of course_ Curtis has an emergency stockpile of freeze-dried ice cream sandwiches.

 

Curtis opens them up and breaks them into bite-size chunks, and Shiro finds a nature documentary to watch and turns off the lights. Curtis digs the spare blanket out from under the middle cushion and wraps it around both of them.

 

They cuddle and nibble on dehydrated ice cream and watch penguins and polar bears and whales go about their business while some famous voice or another narrates. The freeze-dried ice cream has a weird texture when Shiro bites into it--it’s like biting into a piece of styrofoam. But then it melts in his mouth and it’s sweet and chocolatey and tastes like home.

 

God, he can’t wait to be home again.

 

He can’t wait to actually have some time to relax, to be able to just take a few days off safe in the knowledge that this time, there really _isn’t_ anything worse than what they just dealt with out there. He’s forgotten what that feels like.

 

But if anyone can help him remember, it’s probably going to be Curtis.

 

“When we get home,” he says, “can we just take a whole day and do _nothing?_ Just like this? Just... sit on the couch and get food delivered and binge-watch Bob Ross and documentaries about cute animals and shit all day?”

 

“Mmm. That sounds _so good._ ” Curtis snuggles him close. “I want to make you dinner, too. How about a big pot of curry rice?”

 

 _“Hnnng.”_ Just the thought of it is making Shiro’s mouth water. “Make it spicy. I miss that.”

 

“Whatever you want.” Curtis leans over and kisses Shiro on the lips, slow and soft. “I’m gonna spoil you rotten.”

 

Shiro kisses him back, just as slow, just as soft. “You already are.”

 

It’s going to be rough for a while. He knows that. For him, and for everyone else.

 

He’ll need to check on Coran and the Paladins tomorrow, he thinks. And see how those repairs are coming. And there’s still that mountain of administrative busywork... maybe he should see if there’s any of it he can delegate. And there are other things he’ll need to do and check up on and work on tomorrow.

 

But those are all issues for tomorrow.

 

For tonight, there’s just movies and ice cream and warmth and comfort in Curtis’ arms.

**Author's Note:**

> And here we see my headcanon for the fundamental difference between Shiro's relationship with Adam and his relationship with Curtis: Adam took care of him, Curtis does too but he goes a step further and teaches him to take care of himself.
> 
> Update: If you don't like this ship that's fine. That's why it's tagged, so you can avoid reading it. You're welcome to express your opinion about ships you don't like, but I'm gonna have to ask you to do it in your own space and quit shitting in my comments. And if you must fling gendered insults at me, have the common courtesy to use the right ones.


End file.
